


aboveboard enterprises

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Alignment Swap, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attraction, Extra Treat, Flirting, M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 15:13:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8583178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: Surprised, the man huffed a laugh and drew his fist up to his mouth to smother it in a cough before his features went blank all together. But too late, Revan knew he got him. And he seemed to realize it, too, because he lifted his chin in challenge, a flare of defiance growing in those brown eyes of his. “You get a sixth sense for these things when you’re in my line of work.”“Your line of work?” Revan asked, light, a little teasing. He allowed himself a moment to take in the grungy ship squatting behind them, waiting for the man to board and fly away—half its systems probably inoperable, but a top-of-the-line hyperdrive hidden away in some obscure corner of it—no doubt losing a bolt or two in the process. Perfect, in other words. “You mean ‘smuggling.’”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ProtoDan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoDan/gifts).



“Sorry, sweetheart,” the man said, squinting at Revan, suspicious and somehow amused at the same time, like he thought Revan was a joke that he wasn’t quite sure he liked or not. Rising from a crouched position, he tossed the spanner he was holding into the toolbox at his feet. “I don’t do Jedi.”

Revan grinned—it was a good grin, he’d been told, charismatic for a Jedi. “How’d you guess?” he asked, gesturing at the nondescript quality of his clothing. Not even Jedi nondescript, but normal nondescript. Even his lightsaber was well-hidden, strapped to the inside of the vest he’d chosen to wear.

The man’s brow arched high on his forehead, which wrinkled with incredulity. “You’re kidding, right?” His eyes grazed up and down Revan’s body, thoughtful and just the tiniest bit appreciative if the Force was clear in its signals—and, for Revan, the Force was always clear. The man was pretty obvious though, even if he was trying for surreptitious. Revan found he liked the contrast.

“Everyone knows the Jedi outlawed senses of humor a long time ago,” Revan said, dry. “And you said it yourself: I’m a Jedi. So how’d you know?”

Surprised, the man huffed a laugh and drew his fist up to his mouth to smother it in a cough before his features went blank all together. But too late, Revan knew he got him. And he seemed to realize it, too, because he lifted his chin in challenge, a flare of defiance growing in those brown eyes of his. “You get a sixth sense for these things when you’re in my line of work.”

“Your line of work?” Revan asked, light, a little teasing. He allowed himself a moment to take in the grungy ship squatting behind them, waiting for the man to board and fly away—half its systems probably inoperable, but a top-of-the-line hyperdrive hidden away in some obscure corner of it—no doubt losing a bolt or two in the process. Perfect, in other words. “You mean ‘smuggling.’”

“Hey!” the man said, sawing his hand back and forth a few inches from his chin. “Hey, now. No need to insult my operation here. I’m—totally aboveboard. You can check my shipping manifests and everything. I just meant—”

Revan lifted his hands in supplication. “I’m not trying to insult you,” he said, charmed. “Or your shipping manifests.”

“Well, uh,” the man said, planting his hands on his hips, “good?”

Revan gave him an encouraging nod and lowered his hands. “Good.” He reached into the inside pocket of his vest—on the side not carrying his lightsaber, of course—and retrieved a credit chit. It wasn’t worth much in the Core Worlds, but out here in the Outer Rim, it was more than enough to buy him passage off this rock. “Now would you be willing to make an exception for a stranger?”

“An exception to what?” the man asked, eying the chit with as much suspicion as he’d eyed Revan with earlier.

“To your totally aboveboard operation.” Glancing around, Revan leaned in. If the man leaned in, too, Revan didn’t point it out to him. “I might’ve caused some trouble with the local authorities. A smuggler would come in handy right about now.”

The man swallowed, his eyes focused on Revan’s mouth. Which was fine with Revan, as long as he also heard the words coming out of it. He coughed again, this time from embarrassment, Revan would have bet. “I… I’m not a smuggler.”

“You’d have a Jedi in your debt.” He held his fingers a mere inch apart in illustration. “For such a minor, minor infraction. That’s not worth something to you?”

“I—” The man glanced around, but there was no one and nothing of interest in their vicinity. Revan held up the chit just in time for the man to swipe it from his hand. Aggrieved, he asked, “Do I at least get to know your name, Jedi?”

“Revan.” His smile, this time, was anything but calculated to appeal, genuine in a way it hadn’t felt in a long time. Revan allowed himself a moment to savor it before he spoke again. “What’s yours?”

“Carth,” the man answered, more than a little dubious. “Carth Onasi.”

“Well met, Carth Onasi.”

Carth rolled his eyes and gestured at the ramp now opening behind them. “All right, then, Jedi. Up you go. I’m not usually in the business of smuggling people, but whatever gets your motor going.”

“The Republic would thank you… if it wouldn’t cause a diplomatic incident to acknowledge this even happened.” Revan turned and winked, figuring not incorrectly that it would rile Carth up. “I’ll just have to think of another way to thank you.”

“This isn’t a holonovel, you know!” he bit out, blowing past Revan up the ramp to jam his palm against a red button on the inside of the minuscule cargo bay, his toolbox held in his other arm. “You can’t just—Jedi _don’t_ —”

“Don’t what?” Revan said, battling against the squeal of the ramp closing, unwilling to wait until it had finished closing to ask.

“Flirt!”

“All right.” Revan shrugged, a little disappointed, but also unwilling to alienate his ride out of here because Revan liked him too much. “If you insist, then who am I to say otherwise?”

Carth groaned. “Follow me,” he said. “And I do insist. Seriously, you’re just about the strangest Jedi I’ve ever met.”

“I’m the only Jedi you’ve ever met, aren’t I?” Revan asked. It was funny, the ideas people got about Jedi. Frankly, Revan wasn’t half as strange as some of his colleagues.

“No—! I mean, yeah, of course.” Carth scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck, his speech surly, as he led Revan toward the tiniest cockpit he’d ever seen outside of a one-person fighter. “Jedi don’t take much interest in the Outer Rim, though Force knows they need the help.”

“You’re not wrong,” Revan murmured, peering out the transparisteel viewport as Revan cleared them for takeoff and completed a truly staggering number of pre-flight checks.

“Why did you have to take such an unconventional route off this planet anyway?” Carth asked as they climbed the atmosphere.

“Do you always wait until it’s too late to ask the important questions?”

Snorting, Carth shook his head. “Forget I asked.”

“I’ll tell you once we’re out of here,” Revan replied. “Maybe over dinner wherever you drop me off? My treat.”

“You’re something else, Jedi.”

“That’s not a no.”

“No,” Carth agreed, rolling his shoulders and pressing a few buttons, the sound of those engines Revan had expected were top-notch whirring to life around them.

“No,” he repeated, turning for one brief moment to smile slyly in Revan’s direction, “it wasn’t.”


End file.
